


Pilot - AUniverse

by wizardoface



Series: AUniverse [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Attempt at Humor, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Butterfly Effect, Natasha Romanov Feels, POV Natasha Romanov, Valkyrie discovered, and i'll post it all, and we need more of her, but this is a real long series, give me time, i dont know if i should tag everything to get people interested or not, i dunno, it annoys me that theres no u, pilot chapter, seriously, shes amazing, stay tuned for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29363049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardoface/pseuds/wizardoface
Summary: 'When word came in that the strange and perfectly preserved frozen ship was, in fact, the long-lost Valkyrie, no-one quite knew what to expect. Now, standing ten meters away from the gleaming hull, bordered on all sides by expansive ice and hulking, glimmering snow, Janie decided that this mission was turning out to be one of her most boring ones. At least when she’d had to trudge through terabytes of data, she could get up to get coffee now and again.'The discovery of the Valkyrie, and the beginnings of a long and arduous adventure, spanning across decades and continents, and following the intricate and tangled lives of real life, everyday folk, who happen to have been dragged into something much larger than anyone anticipated.
Series: AUniverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156946
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Pilot - AUniverse

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I should be working on A&S, but I got distracted by this. The pilot is already written (and hence it appears below) and I have most of the other parts to the series pretty much sorted (like, I have it all organised, and most scenes at least barebones'ed out - shut up, that's totally a word - also, I lied, I don't have most of the series written, but it's written in my head so I think that counts?? - look, I've got 47,000 words spanning like six (6) interconnected stories, so I'm getting somewhere). 
> 
> Basically, to conclude; I have no self restraint, and I'm so bloody in love with this series that I want to send it to the worlddddddd...a tad prematurely I'm sure, but the pilot is complete so idgaf.

Janie Edwards had worked hard for her position in SHIELD. Graduating at the top, or close to the top of all her classes as a recruit, she had just about had first pick of positions within the organisation – entry-level positions, of course – and had left with shining recommendations from the majority of her instructors (apart from Lucile Jenners, head of mechanical maintenance, and Janie’s General Maintenance instructor, who reported that Janie was ‘a menace to all things good and proper’ and that she was ‘probably the reason the polar ice caps were melting at the rate they were’ – but Lucile didn’t like anyone, so that was fine).

Janie, after a good long think, had entered SHIELD as an Intelligence Agent, hoping to one day make it to Intelligence Officer and maybe even Intelligence Admiral or _General_ , if she was lucky.

Her job started off at basic analysis of inputted information (churning through that which the computers were too important to churn themselves), and she quickly found herself rising through the ranks, powered by a fierce determination and unmatched motivation to get as far away from the human computer she’d started out as.

That was how she found herself, two and a half years into her employment, running the excavation and extradition of the Valkyrie, after one of her agents picked up a signal from a Russian ‘fishing’ vessel about a strange ship frozen and perfectly preserved in the Arctic.

(What a Russian ‘fishing’ vessel was doing in that particular spot was questionable, but luckily for Janie, that wasn’t her jurisdiction, and she happily passed that information on to the appropriate authorities.)

“Tundra team has exposed the outer hull, boss. Heaters stationed throughout the ship, expected time to full melt, fifteen minutes.”

Janie lowered her binoculars, squinting at the glare of the icy landscape. She didn’t even know _why_ they had a tundra team. Still. “Good. Get the team ready, I want them on standby in ten.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Came the response from her second in command for the mission – Michaels’, if she was remembering correctly (she had only met him properly on the jet on the way here, and introductions had been rushed in the excitement of having found a WWII relic).

When word came in that the strange and perfectly preserved frozen ship was, in fact, the long-lost _Valkyrie_ , no-one quite knew what to expect. Now, standing ten meters away from the gleaming hull, bordered on all sides by expansive ice and hulking, glimmering snow, Janie decided that this mission was turning out to be one of her most boring ones. At least when she’d had to trudge through terabytes of data, she could get up to get coffee now and again.

There was nothing for it. The call went up that they were clear to begin penetrating into the belly of the ship, and Janie motioned for her mechanics to approach with the laser cutter.

While Banks and Roberts got started on cutting through the creaking hull, Janie shivered into the collar of her coat against the chill wind. Michaels, beside her, studied the bright light of the laser cutter. After watching it for a moment, he chuckled.

When Janie showed no sign of asking him what was so funny, he shifted in place, giving her a side-glance. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “What?”

He perked up, “‘S just, I figured, what with it bein’ the _Valkyrie_ and all, it’d be a bit more exciting ‘n this.”

Janie didn’t respond, despite his words echoing her thoughts exactly. Michaels didn’t seem to need encouragement now that he had started, “I was excited ta come out here and all, bu’ I’ve mos’ly jus’ been in the way.”

Janie kindly didn’t comment exactly what she thought about _that_ , shuffling further into her coat and willing the mechanics to be finished quickly so she could get inside and out of this conversation.

“Turns out, they don’t need much supervision, after all,” Michaels mused, “Still, it’s a story ta tell the grandkids one a’ these days.”

The laser cutter shut down, and what followed could only be described as an unholy wail, as the section of metal came away from the rest of the hull and was slowly lowered down and away by the mechanics. They carried it further up onto the bank, and retreated to the nearby tent to do to it…whatever mechanics do.

Janie, turning from the eager-looking Michaels, gestured to her exploration team, taking the lead as she strode down to the newly made opening. The team fell in line behind her, various devices carried amongst them. The rest of the team would take measurements and observations around the perimeter of the ship, while Janie scouted out the inside.

She ducked under the sharp edge of metal and slipped into the ship. The sounds of the Arctic fell away to an eerie quiet. Small, drone-like heaters, controlled from the main tent back at basecamp, had been manoeuvred into the space, so a preliminary scan of the ship had already been conducted. Janie’s job was to fill in the gaps the drones could not.

There was a steady drip from further in the ship, probably from where the heaters had melted some of the ice. Janie could see that most of the ice and snow had been melted and drained away, only a few lone clumps remaining.

She made her way gradually through the ship, steadying herself with fingertips against the wall at the slight tilt of the floor. She came upon a mangled wall of metal – the side of the ship had obviously been blasted apart at some point – beyond which was a wall of blue ice. Further ahead was what appeared as the control panel of the ship.

Just at that moment, there was a lurch, the metal under her feet groaning terribly. Janie froze.

A moment later, there was a crackle over the comm, “ _Sorry ‘bout that. Minor turbulence. We’re steady now.”_

Janie closed her eyes in annoyance. The comm crackled again, “ _Carry on._ ”

She let out a breath of air, “Yes, thank you, Michaels.”

With a sigh, Janie continued over to the control panel. The window was smashed in, letting ice from the outside leech over into the ship. Janie slipped a torch out from her belt and flicked it on, shining it into the ice.

“Clear.” She stated, turning to leave when a glint in the ice caught her eye. She stepped forward, reaching out a hand to brush against the ice.

There, just under her hand, was a glint of red. She frowned, shifting closer to get a better look. Flicking a switch on her torch, she turned it to heat, waving it over the surface of the ice to melt it.

“On second thoughts,” Janie said, “Maybe get an artefact team in here. They’re going to want to see this.”

“ _Copy that, Agent. Readying artefact team.”_

Janie moved the torch in circular movements, wiping away some of the melted water with her gloved hand and shaking it off. More of the metal was being exposed, as the ice melted, and Janie knew, with growing certainty, that this mission was going to be staying on her record for a long time.

Deciding to leave the rest to the heater drone which had joined her, and to the artefact team, whenever they got here, Janie moved further along the panel, wondering what other, if any, treasure was to be found. She trailed her hand along the ice, leisurely scanning the heat torch over it, keeping a keen eye out for anything interesting.

There was a clang further back in the ship, most likely the artefact team making their way in, but Janie wasn’t paying attention to that.

“Oh my god.” Janie breathed, eyes wide as her hands stilled over the ice and snow.

Without taking her eyes off the frozen face in front of her, she spoke into her comm, “I need extraction team in here. Namesake has been found.”

The comm crackled, a full ten seconds of silence before, “ _Copy that_.”

Janie took a measured breath, letting the air out slowly, swirling in the frigid cold in ribbons of smoke.

* * *

Once the extraction team had removed the body, and the artefact team had retrieved their prize, Janie was left to do a final sweep of the ship before they sent in the scientists to do their thing. She ducked back into the ship – having been evicted while the various teams did their jobs – and made her way through the metal maze, torch sweeping from side to side, searching for anything else of interest.

As she got deeper into the ship, creeping in the opposite direction to the front control station, Janie started to notice a change in the air. There was not as much ice left over in this part of the ship – partly because it was closer to the surface – with small rivulets running down the cracks in the walls. The air seemed to hum in anticipation as she stepped closer and closer to the back of the ship.

As she entered a large open space, Janie realised that there was actually a hum resonating out, and it was getting louder.

Janie slowly crept closer to where the hum was coming from, pulling out her special-issue stun gun (She got in trouble when she called it a laser pointer, but that’s essentially what it was, just with more ‘knock-you-out-and-give-you-a-wicked-headache’). The air seemed to pulse, and distort with a soft whistle sounding. The whistling noise got louder, as the hum increased, and suddenly her ears were popping as the noise came to a shattering crescendo.

Her eyes widened as the sound stopped, and she barely managed to dive behind the remains of a metal panel before everything imploded.

There was a blue flash through the ship, and a wind whipped around the panel, pulling at Janie’s clothes as she wrapped her arms around her head, pulling her knees into her chest to lessen the impact, her eyes closing instinctively.

And then, it was over.

Janie’s ears rang as she slowly opened her eyes, surveying herself to check for damage. Satisfied she was in one piece, she untangled her limbs, staggering to a stand, her eyes widening as she took in the damage to the ship.

Or, more precisely, the _lack_ of damage to the ship.

Everything was exactly in order. Nothing had changed from before the blast.

Something moved in the corner of the ship, a soft moan coming from it.

The comm crackled back to life, “ _Agent Edwards. Report. What was that?”_

Janie took a breath, creeping slowly over to the movement, “I’m not sure yet, sir. Investigating the source now.”

Another crackle, this time one of the engineers spoke, “ _Our sensors picked up an energy blast. These readings are off the charts! Whatever caused that must be incredibly powerful.”_

“Copy that.” Janie confirmed into the comm.

Closer, she could see that the movement was made by a person. A person who had not been there a minute ago. A person who was currently pushing herself off the ground into a sitting position.

Their eyes met.

The woman froze, eyes wide as she took in the gun, her gaze skimming over Janie’s uniform, stance and face, a furrow forming between her eyes.

She seemed to come to a decision, her eyes hardening a second before she threw herself at Janie, ducking around the gun and attempting to kick her feet out from under her.

But Janie hadn’t placed second in combat for nothing. That second’s warning was all she needed to be able to counter the woman’s move and she spun out of the way, swiping at the woman’s back with the butt of her gun.

The woman threw herself into a roll and Janie’s arm swung through the air above her, missing her by a hair’s width. She came out of the roll, standing in a fighting stance as she turned around, bedraggled dirty blonde hair hanging over her face.

Janie held up her hands in a conciliatory manner, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“ _Who are you talking to?”_ The comm crackled immediately, “ _Agent Edwards? Is someone else with you?”_

The woman launched herself forward, slashing at Janie with a knife she seemed to have produced from nowhere, and Janie blocked her, driving the hand with the knife toward the ground with a swiping motion of her arm.

Her left arm immediately came up to block the punch the woman threw at her with surprising force. Whoever the woman was, she was no amateur.

But neither was Janie.

They swapped a flurry of blows, neither seeming able to gain much ground over the other before the odds were flipped.

“ _Agent! Report. What is going on?”_

A clatter and the woman’s knife dropped to the floor, Janie’s gun having already been lost early into the fight. With a quick kick, Janie sent the knife flying out of the woman’s reach, spinning in a circle until it collided with the wall of the ship.

“ _We’re sending a crew back in!”_

A falter, not much but enough that Janie could take advantage of, using her full weight to send the woman flying to the ground. Quickly, Janie got down on top of her, pinning her with her legs, and holding her arm against her neck.

The woman struggled for a moment, before collapsing against the ground, her head dropping with an unforgiving bang against the metal.

“Hydra _scum_ ,” Came the harsh whisper from the woman, as she glared up at Janie with eyes full of hate.

Janie slowed, taking in the woman properly for the first time.

She was wearing a rather tattered and bloodstained, yet still recognisable uniform. Or should she say, _costume_. The blue top with red and white striped skirt were both congruent with the location (in a strange yet vaguely holistic way) and terribly inconsistent with the woman’s behaviour.

Janie had grown up in a town where it seemed every teenage, pre-teen and sometimes even kindergarten girl dressed up as a Captain America showgirl come Halloween time, and so Janie had a vague sense of understanding of what a showgirl _was._

As a feminist herself, Janie had long-since begun to despise the whole idea of the showgirl, as one who postured and pouted to make the man look better, but who possessed no real qualities of her own. She figured it took a particular breed of person to make a good and proper showgirl.

To have just had an honest-to-god _fight_ with one completely blew Janie’s perceptions out of the water.

She caught her breath, looking down at the woman with a newfound, if grudging, respect, “I’m not Hydra.”

The woman narrowed her eyes, “Well, you sure as hell ain’t SSR,” She spat.

Janie shook her head, “SSR is gone. We’re called SHIELD now. Have been for some time.”

The woman frowned, opening her mouth to respond, but was cut off as a group of armed, black-clad agents flooded the ship.

Janie sighed, “All clear. Stand down.”

The group followed her order, lowering their weapons and parting to let Agent Coulson enter.

He perused the area, taking in Janie’s position kneeling over the woman and the abandoned gun.

“Agent Edwards. You have this under control, I presume?” He purposefully _didn’t_ quirk a brow, but the intent was there. It always was with Agent Coulson.

Janie gave a brisk nod, “Yes sir.”

“Very good.” The vague impression of a pleased nod, “One final sweep of the ship and then we begin the first extract. All agents and non-explorative personnel are to leave in the first wave.”

Janie nodded once more, sharply, as was expected of her, before Agent Coulson turned to leave, gesturing for the agents to follow behind him.

There was a soft groan beneath her, and Janie looked down. The woman was wincing, and Janie could feel her shivering. Suddenly remembering what the woman was wearing, or _not_ wearing as the case may be, she started.

“If I let you up, are you going to attack me?”

The woman gave her a _look_ , attempting to talk through chattering teeth, “H-honestly, I don’t think I’m much capable of anything more right now.”

“Point.” Janie conceded, gently getting off her, and shrugging off her outercoat. Helping the woman up with one hand, she offered up the coat, “You should probably take this if you don’t want to freeze to death.”

The woman looked at it sceptically, as if expecting the fabric to morph into handcuffs suddenly, but ultimately accepted it, sinking gratefully into the warmth.

“Agent Janie Edwards, by the way.” Janie smiled her Agent™ smile (clinical and empty – she had perfected it over the last two and a half years).

“Alice Finley.” The woman almost smiled. It was more of a grimace. “And you, Agent Janie Edwards, are going to tell me exactly what is going on.”

It was Janie’s turn to grimace. She massaged her forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache, “Trust me, I don’t even know the answer to that myself.”

Alice seemed to accept that, humming in answer.

With a bit of a shuffle, they stood. Alice limped over to where her knife had fallen, carefully leaning down to pick it up, slipping it _into_ the fabric of her skirt with a wink at Janie.

Deciding that this was so _not_ her department, Janie let it go in favour of the promise of a warm bed for the first time in a week.

Together, they left the ship, neither of them noticing the blue glow from under the metal sheet that had been kicked loose in their fight.

Like any good plot point, the consequences of their little tussle would be far-reaching and affect not only their immediate futures, but would serve to shape the whole world into which they were about to enter.

This, was just the beginning.

And oh, was the rest of the story going to be _fun_.

**Author's Note:**

> Janie and Alice. Man, I love these characters. They took on a life of their own while I was writing this.
> 
> Anyway, get ready to not see them for a whole life, two stories.
> 
> First up! Natasha Romanoff. Let's see what she's up to...


End file.
